The Marriage Risk

by Debbie Macomber

  “David was so gentle with me. We wept together, and he stood by my side when we buried Emily. I wanted to release him from the wedding vows, but he refused. Soon afterward, he was given his orders to return home. We went together.”

  “That was when you found out about Catherine?”

  “Yes,” Ellen answered softly. “In the beginning I was upset that David hadn’t told me. But he insisted he’d made the decision to marry me and he wanted me as his wife. By that time we’d become lovers, although I don’t believe we were in love. Not then. I’m ashamed to admit that in the beginning when David made love to me I pretended he was Charles. I prayed he never knew, but I suspect he did.”

  “You waited almost fifteen years to start a family.”

  Ellen shook her head. “It wasn’t our choice. There never seemed to be any medical reason I couldn’t conceive. I had easily enough before. Both David and I went through numerous tests and the doctors always came up blank.” She sighed. “In retrospect I probably needed those years to heal emotionally. It wasn’t until I was in my midthirties that I became pregnant with Charles.”

  Named after the brother who’d died. The lover who’d never returned.

  “In many ways the two Charleses are alike,” Ellen said on a wistful note. “I’ve marveled over the years at the similarities between them. Sawyer, on the other hand, is a lot like his father in looks and temperament.”

  “Christian must take after your side of the family, then,” Lanni commented. “In appearance, anyway.” The youngest O’Halloran brother’s hair color was much lighter than that of his siblings.

  Ellen answered with a nod. “I’d hoped for a daughter, but it was never to be.”

  “You and David were separated for a while, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. We’d been married close to thirty years by then. Charles was fifteen at the time, Sawyer a couple of years younger.” Ellen hesitated as if she wasn’t sure she should say any more. “I’d been back to England only once in all those years. I’d never done well in Alaska. I realize now that part of this was my own fault, but part of it was due to…other factors.”

  Lanni had a feeling some of those factors had to do with Catherine.

  “I missed England. I’d always missed England. My cousin, Elizabeth, wrote and urged me to visit. David and I argued, which was something we frequently did in those days. He didn’t want me to leave.

  “In all the years we’d lived together, not once had he ever said he regretted marrying me. He did that day, in anger. That was when I knew how much my weakness had hurt him.

  “I’m not proud of what happened next. In my outrage I told him I’d never loved him. It was a lie. A woman can’t live with a man, bear his children and feel nothing. I’d grown to love David, but I was afraid to tell him that.

  “The next morning I packed my bags and left for England with Christian.”

  “David didn’t come after you?”

  “No. His pride wouldn’t allow that.”

  “How sad for you both.”

  “It was a very painful time,” Ellen acknowledged simply. “I returned to England, the home I’d yearned for all those years, and discovered I no longer belonged. Christian was miserable, too. My own pride carried me through the first year, but the months that followed were…difficult.”

  “You were in touch with David?”

  “Oh, yes. I had to keep in touch because of the boys. I missed them terribly and they missed me. I’d thought that with Charles and Sawyer in their teen years, my presence wouldn’t be that important or necessary to them. I was wrong.”

  “What brought you home?”

  Ellen smiled. “I admitted to David that I’d lied. I did love him, and had for many years. I asked him to forgive me for being so foolish. He said he was sorry, too. I told him I wanted to come home.”

  “And you were happy afterward?”

  “Yes,” she said, but her eyes revealed how short-lived that happiness was. “In the beginning we were. It was as if we’d both been given a fresh start. I tried in every way I could to show David how important he was to me.

  “He’d sacrificed a great deal to fulfill a promise to his brother. For the first time since we were married he wanted me, and not because of any obligation. Or so I believed.”

  “That was when my grandmother destroyed your marriage, wasn’t it?”

  “No,” Ellen surprised her by saying. “David and I did that on our own. Certainly she contributed to the problem, but I can’t blame her for David’s or my stubbornness. When I learned about their affair, I was deeply hurt. David had had the perfect opportunity to suggest a divorce. Instead, he’d invited me home. I came back because I thought he wanted me….”

  “Why did he ask you to come back?”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand his reasons. I’d like to believe he was sincere about wanting our marriage to work. For the boys’ sake, yes, but for us, as well. England wasn’t the homeland I’d left—almost against my will Alaska had become my home.

  “When I found out about the affair, I moved out of David’s bedroom and asked for a divorce. David wouldn’t hear of it. That was when he built the lodge.

  “I always hated that place, while David became more and more obsessed with it. Soon we were like strangers. We rarely spoke to each other. I fully expected him to leave me for Catherine, and I never understood why he didn’t. To the best of my knowledge, he never slept with her again after I returned from England, but I can’t be sure.”

  “She waited for him,” Lanni said. “She waited for the marriage to end so she’d be free to take him for herself.”

  “I lived with that knowledge every day of our married life.”

  “My grandmother is a bitter, unhappy woman.”

  “I’m afraid she has been from the day I stepped off that plane with David and he introduced me as his wife.”

  Ellen didn’t blame Catherine for ruining her marriage; by the same token, Catherine had to take responsibility for what she’d made of her own life.

  “I’m still not sure why you’ve told me all this,” Lanni said. Her salad remained virtually untouched, as did Ellen’s.

  “My son loves you.”

  “I love him.”

  “Then go to him, Lanni. Fight for him. Don’t let the mistakes I made, the sins your grandmother and I committed, influence your life. Marry Charles, with my blessing. Make him happy and, if you’re both willing, make me a grandmother.”

  Lanni’s eyes held Ellen’s. “I’ll do what I can,” she said decisively, “but Charles is a stubborn man.”

  “Be more stubborn, then,” she advised. “I lost my Charles, not by choice, but by fate. Don’t lose yours.”

  Lanni’s eyes gleamed with determination. “I won’t. Not now.”

  Ellen laughed. “You know, I almost feel sorry for the boy.”

  Before she was through with him, Lanni thought, Charles might well be in need of his mother’s sympathy.

  * * *

  “I suppose you heard,” Ben said when Charles walked into the Hard Luck Café.

  “Heard what?”

  “About Pete and Dotty. They’ve announced their engagement.”

  Charles slid onto a stool without comment. Feeling the way he had lately, he found it difficult to dredge up enthusiasm for much of anything. If Pete Livengood was marrying the nurse Christian had hired, then great. Wonderful.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?” Ben asked, pouring him a cup of coffee.

  “Yeah, more power to them.”

  “The wedding’s in two months.”

  The last thing Charles wanted to discuss was weddings.

  Ben lingered at the counter. “Rumor has it you’re selling the lodge.”

  “Yeah,” he answered without elaborating.

  “When did all this happen?”

  “Last week.”

  “Well, who bought it? Anyone I know?” Ben was beginning to sound decidedly short-tempered.
>
  “I doubt it.”

  “Listen, Charles, if talking with a friend is too much trouble for you, just say the word and I’ll shut my trap.”

  Charles scowled. “I came in for coffee, not conversation.”

  “Fine.” Ben set down the pot so hard coffee splashed on the counter. Then he marched back into the kitchen, where he slammed dishes and pans around with far more noise than Charles suspected was necessary.

  Listening to the racket, he regretted his own outburst. Ben was a good friend and deserved better.

  “Matt Caldwell bought the lodge,” he said when Ben reappeared.

  The older man ignored him.

  “Matt is Lanni’s brother.”

  Still Ben went about his business as if he was alone in the café.

  The door opened and Mitch Harris stepped inside. He slipped onto a stool two down from Charles. The two men acknowledged each other with a brief nod. Mitch hadn’t been in Hard Luck all that long, but Charles liked him. Liked his understated authority, his kindness—and the fact that Mitch, too, was a man of few words.

  Ben took Mitch’s order and continued to ignore Charles.

  “All right,” Charles muttered when his friend paraded past yet again. “If you’re looking for an apology, you’ve got one.”

  To his amazement Ben whirled about, grinning broadly. “You know what your problem is, don’t you?”

  As a matter of fact, Charles did. His problem, as Ben referred to it, was about five six with long blond hair and eyes that could look straight through his soul.

  Ben didn’t give him a chance to respond. “In case no one’s bothered to tell you, you’ve got a chip on your shoulder the size of this great state of ours.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate hearing that,” Charles said sarcastically.

  “Now if you want to make a mess of your life, that’s your business. I told you what I thought. Most of the others share my opinion, but they don’t have the guts to tell you. You seem to—”

  “I saw Lanni while I was in Anchorage,” Charles broke in, his voice low. He paused; he wasn’t sure why he felt it was necessary for Ben to know that.

  However, his comment had piqued Ben’s interest. “You did?”

  Charles stared into his coffee mug. “Her brother tricked us into a meeting. We both realize a relationship between us isn’t meant to be. She feels as strongly about it as I do.” Even now, Charles didn’t understand why he’d stayed in her apartment once he knew what Matt had done. Any man with a lick of sense would’ve known better. The only thing he’d managed to prove was how much he loved her.

  Instinctively he recognized that true satisfaction would escape him with any other woman. He would find what he needed with Lanni and with no one else.

  The door opened, and Christian entered the café, frowning. “Got anything stronger than coffee?” he asked Ben.

  “You know I only sell beer on Friday and Saturday nights.”

  “I was hoping you’d make an exception this afternoon.”

  “What’s up?” Charles asked.

  Christian regarded him wanly. “Have you rejoined the living, or are you still a brooding, bad-tempered zombie?”

  “I’m still brooding and bad-tempered, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to answer the question.”

  “Mariah Douglas.”

  “Who?”

  “The new secretary,” Ben supplied.

  “The woman’s incompetent,” Christian snapped.

  “Then fire her,” Charles said.

  “I’ve tried. Three times to be exact, and then she bursts into tears and tells me how sorry she is, and before I know it she’s talked me into giving her another chance.”

  “Is Sawyer having the same problems with her?” Charles wanted to know. It seemed to him that his brother wouldn’t have any qualms about laying off an inept employee.

  “That’s what’s so bizarre. I swear if Sawyer asks Mariah to type anything, she goes at it about a hundred miles an hour and produces a flawless copy.”

  “But not for you?”

  “For me she spills coffee on the keyboard. For me she topples a hundred-pound filing cabinet onto my foot. For me she cuts off a phone call to an important client.”

  “I’d say you have a negative effect on the woman.”

  Christian rested his elbows on the counter and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “Is she still living in the cabin?” Ben asked.

  “Oh, yes. I don’t know what possessed me to actually think a woman from the big city, accustomed to modern conveniences, could live out there. But Mariah refuses to listen to reason. For the life of me, I can’t convince her to move.”

  Charles found himself enjoying the fact that his youngest brother was experiencing troubles of the female variety. He obviously hadn’t managed to conceal his reaction from Christian.

  Christian raised his head and looked at Charles through narrowed eyes. “If I were you I wouldn’t look so smug.”

  “Why’s that?” Charles had to admit it felt good to smile.

  “You know Matt Caldwell’s in town?”

  “Already?” Ben said. “The man isn’t going to let any grass grow under his feet, is he?”

  The two brothers ignored him. Charles said, “I understand he’s bringing in supplies. What he said to me in Anchorage is that he wants to get as much done as possible before the weather changes.”

  “Supplies aren’t the only thing he brought with him,” Christian said.

  Charles frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” His brother slid off the stool. He set a dollar bill and some change down on the counter, then gave a jaunty wave. “Thanks for the coffee, Ben. I’ll be back Friday night when you can serve me something more to my liking.”

  Charles knew that Matt had come in on the morning flight. One of the air services out of Fairbanks had brought him, along with enough building supplies to keep him busy the entire winter.

  He’d need at least that much time. While part of the structure hadn’t been seriously damaged by the flames, much of it was in bad shape. Matt would have to work fast if he intended to live in the lodge this year. Winter arrived early in Hard Luck; it wasn’t uncommon for the rivers to freeze over in September.

  Wondering about his brother’s cryptic remark, Charles got up from the counter and strolled outside. He didn’t intend to become close friends with Matt Caldwell, but the least he could do was stop by to say hello and see if there was anything he needed.

  Knowing his new sister-in-law, he figured Abbey had probably invited Matt to dinner. She and Sawyer would provide a hearty welcome to their community. He smiled when he thought of the changes in Sawyer since he’d met Abbey.

  When Charles got to the lodge, he heard a volley of hammering. The sound of voices followed. Charles hadn’t realized Matt had brought anyone with him; actually he’d been smart to do so. With everything that needed to be done before the weather became prohibitive, getting the lodge in shape would take more than one pair of hands.

  It felt strange to knock at the front door of a place he’d once considered his own. A moment later Matt was there, greeting him warmly. “Charles! Come in. Uh, I take it you heard.”

  “Heard what?”

  “It’s Charles,” he shouted over his shoulder. “And I don’t think it’s me he’s come to see.” Matt’s deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Is something going on here that I don’t know about?”

  “Hello, Charles.” Lanni stepped out from one of the back rooms. She wore jeans and carried a hammer, which she swung idly at her side. “I wondered how long it would take you to discover I’d moved to Hard Luck.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “What do you mean you’ve moved to Hard Luck?” Charles demanded. He scowled, but his lack of enthusiasm didn’t appear to discourage her.

  The hammer continued to swing at her side, and she wore a sassy grin. “What do you
think I mean?”

  That she planned to make his life a living hell, Charles decided. “What about your job with the paper?”

  She shrugged, as if that was of no importance. Charles knew otherwise. Matt had bragged to him about Lanni’s talents. Being accepted as an intern at the Anchorage daily paper was no small feat. If he remembered correctly, Lanni was supposed to begin work at the beginning of September. It was the chance of a lifetime, and he refused to let her abandon the opportunity because of him. Or because of some misguided belief that they could work things out.

  “Damn it, Lanni, you were supposed to be working for the paper in another two weeks.”

  Her saucy look began to waver. “I guess I won’t be, after all.”

  “Why not?”

  “Lanni,” Matt called out. He stuck his head around the corner and saw the two of them talking. A smile spread across his face. “Never mind,” he said, looking pleased with himself.

  “Answer my question!” Charles glared at her.

  “If you must know,” she said stiffly, “I’ve turned down the internship.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I tried to talk sense into her,” Matt insisted, peeking around the corner again, “but she refused to listen.”

  “Go away, Matt,” Lanni said. “This conversation doesn’t include you.”

  “Sorry.” Matt stepped onto the porch and stood, feet braced apart, gunslinger-style, thumbs tucked into his toolbelt. A hammer hung from one side like a six-shooter. “I don’t think she should turn it down, either. Maybe you can talk sense into her.”

  “What happens with my career is entirely up to me,” Lanni said calmly.

  “Take the job!” Charles barked. It was simple: he didn’t want her in Hard Luck. Not where she could torment him day and night. He had enough trouble resisting her when she was half a state away; he’d be in serious trouble if she moved virtually next door.

  “He’s right, sis.”

  “Matt,” Lanni said in a low, angry whisper. “Let me repeat—this conversation is between Charles and me.”

  “All right, all right,” Matt said. He held up both hands in surrender. “I’ll leave.” He strode sheepishly past them and out the front door, stopping to whisper something to Lanni that Charles couldn’t hear.